Poem: Love

By: John Tuttle


Love. ‘Tis unique to the self-named humankind.
The strongest emotion, the capital virtue.
It is not an element solely of the mind.
Love: potent, everlasting, undying, true.

Love. Her offspring is life, new life.
I want a rich life, but not with money and property.
As with everyone, it will have sigh and strife.
But without any love in it, life is true poverty.

Love. It means to respect and do what is best for your peers.
In big things, in little things, the lover would make the sacrifice.
The lover would do it all through blood, sweat, and tears.
The deeds done out of true love are done more than once or twice.

Categories: Poetry

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